Darker (26 page)

“So many boats,” she says.

And one of them is mine.

We stand on the promenade and watch the sailboats out in the Sound. Ana tugs her jacket around herself.

“Cold?” I tuck her under my arm, closer to my side.

“No, just admiring the view.”

“I could stare at it all day. Come, this way.”

We head into SP’s, the waterfront restaurant and bar, for lunch. Inside, I search for Dante, Claude Bastille’s brother.

“Mr. Grey!” He sees me before I see him. “What can I get you this afternoon?”

“Dante, good afternoon.” I usher Ana onto one of the stools at the bar. “This lovely lady is Anastasia Steele.”

“Welcome to
SP’s Place.” Dante grins at Ana, his dark eyes intrigued. “What would you like to drink, Anastasia?”

“Please, call me Ana,” she says, then, eyeing me, adds, “and I’ll have whatever Christian’s drinking.”

Ana is deferring to me, like she did at the ball. I like it.

“I’m going to have a beer. This is the only bar in Seattle where you can get
Adnams Explorer.”

“A beer?”

“Yes. Two Explorers, please, Dante.”

Dante nods and sets up the drinks on the bar and I tell Ana that the seafood chowder that’s served here is delicious. Dante writes down our food order and gives me a wink.

Yes, I’m here with a woman I’m not related to. It’s a first, I know.

I turn my attention to Ana. “How did you get started in business?” she asks, and takes a sip of her beer.

I give her the executive summary: With Elena’s money and some shrewd but risky investments I was able to build a capital fund. The first company I acquired was about to go under; it had been developing power units for cell phones using graphene technology, but the R&D had exhausted the company’s capital. The patents they held were worth exploiting, and I kept their key talent, Fred and Barney, who are now my two chief engineers.

I tell Ana about our work on solar and wind-up technology for the home market and the developing world, and our innovative research to develop battery storage. All critical initiatives, given the depletion of fossil fuels.

“You still with me?” I ask when our chowder arrives. I love that she’s interested in what I do. Even my parents struggle not to glaze over when I tell them about my work.

“I’m fascinated,” she says. “Everything about you fascinates me, Christian.”

Her words are encouraging, so I continue my story, of how I bought and sold more companies, keeping those that shared my ethos, breaking up and selling the others.

“Mergers and acquisitions,” she muses.

“The very same. I moved into shipping two years ago, and from there into improving food production. Our test sites in Africa are pioneering new agricultural techniques for higher crop yields.”

“Feed the world,” Ana teases me.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“You’re very philanthropic.”

“I can afford to be.”

“This is delicious,” Ana says, as she takes another spoonful of chowder.

“One of my favorites,” I respond.

“You told me you like sailing.” Ana motions to the boats outside.

“Yes. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. Elliot and I learned to sail at the sail school here. Do you sail?”

“No.”

“So what does a young woman from Montesano do to keep herself amused?” I take a sip of my beer.

“Read.”

“It always comes back to books with you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“What happened between Ray and your mom?”

“I think they drifted apart. My mom is such a romantic, and Ray, well, he’s more practical. She’d been in Washington all her life. She wanted adventure.”

“Did she find any?”

“She found Steve.” Her expression darkens, as if the mention of his name leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. “But she never talks about him.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. I don’t think that was a happy time for her. I wondered if she regretted leaving Ray after that.”

“And you stayed with him.”

“Yes. He needed me more than my mom did.”

We talk freely and easily. Ana is a good listener and much more forthcoming about herself this time. Perhaps it’s because she now knows that I love her.

I love Ana.

There. That’s not so painful, is it, Grey?

She’s explaining how much she disliked living in Texas and Vegas because of the heat. She prefers the cooler climate in Washington.

I hope she stays in Washington.

Yes. With me.

Like moving in?

Grey, you’re getting way ahead of yourself here.

Take her sailing.

I glance at my watch and drain my beer. “Shall we go?”

We settle up for lunch and we head outside into the mild summer sunshine. “I wanted to show you something.”

Holding hands, we amble past the smaller boats anchored in the marina. I spot
The Grace
’s mast towering above the smaller boats as we near her mooring. My anticipation escalates. I haven’t been sailing for a while, and now I get to take my girl. Leaving the main promenade, we step onto the dock, then down onto a narrower pontoon. At
The Grace,
I stop. “I thought we’d go sailing this afternoon. This is my boat.”

My catamaran. My pride and joy.

Ana’s impressed.

“Built by my company. She’s been designed from the ground up by the very best naval architects in the world and constructed here in Seattle at my yard. She has hybrid electric drives, asymmetric dagger boards, a square-topped mainsail—”

“Okay!” Ana says, holding up her hands. “You’ve lost me, Christian.”

Don’t get carried away, Grey.

“She’s a great boat.” I can’t conceal my admiration.

“She looks mighty fine, Mr. Grey.”

“That she does, Miss Steele.”

“What’s her name?”

I take her hand and show her
“The Grace”
written in an elaborate scroll on the side. “You named her after your mom?” Ana sounds surprised.

“Yes. Why do you find that strange?”

She shrugs, at a loss for words.

“I adore my mom, Anastasia. Why wouldn’t I name a boat after her?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—”

“Anastasia, Grace Trevelyan-Grey saved my life. I owe her everything.”

Her smile is uncertain, and I wonder what’s going through her head, and what I might have done to make her think I don’t love my mother.

Okay, so I once told Ana I didn’t have a heart—but there’s always been room for my family in what’s left of it. Even Elliot.

I didn’t know there was space for anyone else.

But there’s an Ana-shaped space.

And she’s filled it to overflowing.

I swallow as I try to contain the depth of feeling I have for her. She’s bringing my heart back to life, bringing me back to life.

“Do you want to come aboard?” I ask, before I say something sappy.

“Yes, please.”

Taking my hand, she follows me as I stride up the gangplank onto the aft deck. Mac appears, startling Ana when he opens the sliding doors to the main saloon.

“Mr. Grey! Welcome back.” We shake hands.

“Anastasia, this is
Liam McConnell. Liam, my girlfriend, Anastasia Steele.”

“How do you do?” she says to Liam.

“Call me Mac. Welcome aboard, Miss Steele.”

“Ana, please.”

“How’s she shaping up, Mac?” I ask.

“She’s ready to rock and roll, sir,” he says with a huge grin.

“Let’s get under way, then.”

“You going to take her out?” he asks.

“Yep,” I reply. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. “Quick tour, Anastasia?”

We go through the sliding doors. Ana scans the inside, and I know she’s impressed. The interior has been created by a Swedish designer based in Seattle, all clean lines and light oak that give the saloon a bright and airy feel. I’ve adopted the same look throughout
The Grace.
“This is the main saloon. Galley beside.” I wave in its direction. “Bathrooms on either side.” I point them out, then lead her through the small door to my cabin. Ana gasps at the sight of the bed. “This is the master cabin. You’re the first girl in here, apart from family.” I hold her and kiss her. “They don’t count. Might have to christen this bed,” I whisper against her lips. “But not right now. Come, Mac will be casting off.” I lead Ana back into the main saloon. “Office in there, and at the front here, two more cabins.”

“So how many can sleep on board?”

“It’s a six-berth cat. I’ve only ever had the family on board, though. I like to sail alone. But not when you’re here. I need to keep an eye on you.” From the chest by the sliding door I extract a bright red life jacket.

“Here.” I slip it over her head and tighten the straps.

“You love strapping me in, don’t you?”

“In any form.” I wink at her.

“You are a pervert.”

“I know.”

“My pervert,” she teases.

“Yes, yours.”

Once I’ve fastened the buckles I grab the side of the life jacket and kiss her quickly. “Always,” I say, and release her before she can respond. “Come.” We go outside and up the steps to the top deck and the cockpit.

Below, at the dock, Mac is casting off the bow line. He leaps back on board.

“Is this where you learned all your rope tricks?” Ana is pretending to be naïve.

“Clove hitches have come in handy. Miss Steele, you sound curious. I like you curious. I’d be more than happy to demonstrate what I can do with a rope.”

Ana goes quiet, and I think I’ve upset her.

Damn.

“Gotcha.” She giggles, pleased with herself.

Well, that’s not fair. I narrow my eyes. “I may have to deal with you later, but right now I’ve got to drive my boat.” I sit down at the captain’s chair and fire up the twin fifty-five-horsepower engines. I switch off the blower and Mac scoots along the top deck, grabbing the guardrail, then bounces down to the aft deck to release the stern lines. He waves at me and I radio the Coast Guard to get the all-clear.

I take
The Grace
out of idle, move the shifter forward, and ease the throttle. And my beautiful boat glides out of her berth.

Ana is waving to the small crowd that has gathered on the dock to witness our departure. I tug her back between my legs.

“See this.” I point to the VHF. “That’s our radio. Our GPS, our AIS, the radar.”

“What’s the AIS?”

“That identifies us to shipping. This is our depth gauge. Grab the wheel.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She salutes me.

I pilot us slowly out of the marina, Ana’s hands beneath mine on the wheel. We turn into open water and we sweep across the Sound in a large arc until we’re heading northwest toward the Olympic Peninsula and Bainbridge Island. The wind is moderate at fifteen knots, but I know once we get the sheets up
The Grace
will fly. I love this. Challenging myself against the elements in a boat I’ve helped design, using the skills I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting. It’s thrilling.

“Sail time,” I say to Ana, and I cannot contain my excitement. “Here, you take her. Keep her on this course.”

Ana looks freaked out.

“Baby, it’s really easy. Hold the wheel and keep your eye on the horizon over the bow. You’ll do great; you always do. When the sails go up, you’ll feel the drag. Just hold her steady. I’ll signal like this”—I make a slashing motion with my hand across my throat—“and you can cut the engines. This button here.” I point to the engines’ kill button. “Understand?”

“Yes.” But she looks uncertain. I know she’s got this. She always does. I give her a quick kiss and bound onto the top deck to prep and hoist the main sail. Mac and I crank in unison, making light work of it. When the wind catches the sheet we lurch forward, and I glance at Ana, but she’s holding us steady. Mac and I work on the headsail and it flies up the mast, welcoming the wind and harnessing its power.

“Hold her steady, baby, and cut the engines!” I shout over the roar of the wind and the waves, and I motion to her. Ana presses the button and the roar of the engines ceases as we whip across the sea, flying northwest.

I join Ana at the wheel. The wind is lashing her hair around her face; she’s exhilarated, her cheeks flushed with joy. “What do you think?” I yell, above the call of the sea and the wind.

“Christian! This is fantastic.”

“You wait until the spinney’s up.” With my chin I point to Mac, who is raising the spinnaker.

“Interesting color,” Ana shouts.

I give her a knowing wink. Yep, the color of my playroom.

The wind pumps up the spinney and
The Grace
charges ahead, unleashing her power and giving us a thrilling ride. Ana looks from the spinnaker to me. “Asymmetrical sail. For speed,” I call out. I’ve pushed
The Grace
to twenty knots, but the wind has to be in our favor for that kind of speed.

“It’s amazing!” she shouts. “How fast are we going?”

“She’s doing fifteen knots.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It’s about seventeen miles an hour.”

“Is that all? It feels much faster.”

Ana is radiant. Her joy is infectious. I squeeze her hands on the wheel. “You look lovely, Anastasia. It’s good to see some color in your cheeks, and not from blushing. You look like you do in José’s photos.”

She turns in my arms and kisses me. “You know how to show a girl a good time, Mr. Grey.”

“We aim to please, Miss Steele.” She turns back to face the bow and I smooth the hair away from her neck and kiss her. “I like seeing you happy,” I murmur in her ear, and we careen across Puget Sound.

WE ANCHOR IN THE
cove near
Hedley Spit on Bainbridge Island. Together, Mac and I lower the dinghy so he can go ashore and visit a friend in Point Monroe. “I’ll see you in about an hour, Mr. Grey.” He descends into the small boat, gives Ana a wave, and fires up the outboard motor.

I vault up to the aft deck where Ana is standing and grab her hand. I don’t need to watch Mac speed toward the lagoon; I have more pressing business to attend to.

“What are we going to do now?” Ana asks, as I take her into the saloon.

“I have plans for you, Miss Steele.” And with indecent haste, I drag her into my cabin. She’s smiling as I make quick work of her life jacket and toss it to the floor. Once it’s off, she stares at me, remaining mute, but her teeth tease her bottom lip, and I don’t know if it’s deliberate or an unconscious lure.